Devilicious Psychopath | Patrick Bateman | 18+

My Psycho

I see tears flood his face when I turn away from the dead man and crash into my father's awaiting arms.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~

That's all I remember.

My father's comforting embrace and then nothing.

Blank, darkness.

So I was able to pass out for a fourth time.

I'm tired, drained. Eventually sleep overtakes me and rocks me into a deep sleep.

I only wake when the movement becomes too much. Reviving from the deep slumber I awake in Patrick's arms.

It's night and the stars glitter the night sky. Stars. We're not in the city anymore. Trying to look around with sleep still blurring my eyes I recognize Pat was carrying me to the house I once didn't know he owned.

The one Patrick had only brought me to once before where he bled on the floor from having his head smashed by a heavy glass vase.

A shudder raced down my spine at the memory.

"Shhh you're alright darling I just need you all to myself for a couple of days, don't want to feed anymore blood lust then I'm already craving to spill." I buried my face in his neck and held onto him for dear life. My hands fist holding onto his shirt in a strong hold.

He spoke so brutally but I knew he meant everything word. And it didn't even faze me anymore.

I laid against him staring up at my love. Admiring his manly beauty and all that was him. Ever so often I'm taken aback from how beautiful he is. I love to stare, soak it all up and admire my man.

My man.

He was all mine. Just as much as I was completely and utterly his.

I was trying my hardest to not remember what had occurred not too long ago desperately looking for a distraction before my mind decided to break on me.

Entering the bathroom he helped me bathe cleaning me of my baggage leaving me cleansed. He prepared some tea for me to help with my tired body but I was exhausted.

I felt spent and exhausted. The type of tired you couldn't fix with sleep.

"What is it talk to me I can feel you shutting down and closing yourself off to me." Patrick laced our fingers together forcing me to face him. Forcing me to feel.

I didn't reply. The truth is I don't know what to say.

"Don't do that I don't like when you distance yourself from me say something, anything." There was an unfamiliar pleading in his voice and it broke my heart.

"I'm tired Patrick." My voice was fragile.

Deep worry flashed in his eyes but he stayed silent.

He pulled me in closer and held onto me lulling me back to a deep sleep. All I could do was rest my exhausted soul, body and mind.

And hope to recover.

It was finally over.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I break out of my nightmarish sleep with a scream. Waking up crying a shaking mess, Patrick reaches out to hold me tightly soothing the bad thoughts away.

Facing my demons have awakened the trauma I refused to acknowledge or even accept before and the punishment for that is feeling them deeply now.

"You're safe it's alright." Patrick's deep sleepy voice soothes me. Clinging to Patrick and practically clawing my nails into his skin eases my thoughts reassuring myself that he's real and he's here. As long as Patrick is with me he won't let anything happen to me.